Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Comoros and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Eve St. Jones to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Blues Magoos,
Arab on Radar,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Slackers,
Judy Mowatt,
Black Flag,
Panda Bear,
Eve St. Jones,
CMW,
Accadde A,
The Barracudas,
Althea and Donna,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Mojo Men,
Depeche Mode,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Swans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Robert Hood,
Aloha Tigers,
Pulsallama,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dennis Brown,
Slick Rick,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Durutti Column,
Erasure,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Dead C,
The Pop Group,
The Kinks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Audionom,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wally Richardson,
UT,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brothers Johnson,
Cheater Slicks,
Eli Mardock,
Niagra,
Bauhaus,
Aaron Thompson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ultravox,
Nils Olav,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
EPMD,
Ludus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Yaz,
New York Dolls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Darondo,
Freddie Wadling,
Funky Four + One,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
New Age Steppers,
Zapp,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.